A couple of months ago I ran through my extended editions of all three of the Lord of the Rings films by Peter Jackson. And once again I was impressed with how good they were. Now I have some friends who, even though they liked the movies, still didn’t think they were enough. One old friend would have liked to see sixty one hour episodes in a TV series, even though TV wouldn’t have spent the bucks to get the big screen masterpiece that resulted from it being filmed as a major motion picture. Another complained that there was no Tom Bombadil. Now Tom might have added something to the movie, but really wasn’t central to the storyline, which had to be cut in some places, so that the four hour extended versions could actually be filmed. One complaint I heard several times was the use of Arwin in the movies. She really wasn’t shown much in the books, only really a passing mention in a couple of places. But when the novel was written a fantasy story could be told without too much character development, and today people want romance in the stories they read or see, just a bit. So Hollywood added that romance by a little more development of Arwin, in the only way it can be done in a film, by showing it.

Now all of the Lord of the Rings movies were good. You could see the development of the effects through the films, which got better as the series progressed. Makes sense, as new techniques and technologies were developed through those years. But the sum of the parts was better than the individual segments. The series was amazing in many respects. The production quality was amazing. The cast of characters was maintained through the three movies, something very difficult to do. I have seen many sequels in the past where a new actor played a character, and we were supposed to completely ignore that they were not the same person that played the part in the preceding film. Not so with Lord of the Rings. They kept the entire cast intact for the entire movie series. Frodo, Gandalf, Sam, Aragorn, Elrond, Galadriel, Saroman, Merry and Pippen. The gang stayed for all the movies. Now I know there are contracts, and I’m sure everyone was signed to one, but that doesn’t always prevent people from leaving. The second amazing thing was how the series fitted together like one seamless story, with the tension growing from episode to episode. Remember the big battle scene in Fellowship. Gandalf, Aragorn, Gimli and Legalos versus the Uraki. Oh, and a couple of Hobbits as well. The Two Towers featured an Army of ten thousand Uraki versus the defenders of Helms Deep, augmented by several thousand cavalry. Sure, there were some liberties taken with Helms Deep, like the inclusion of elves, but all in all it was a great battle scene. And then the battles of Return of the King, the great cavalry charge against the massive army of Orcs. The fight with the Olifants. Everything building to the final scene when the great eye crashes to the ground. It was definitely Jackson’s masterpiece, and an effort to be proud of. I bought the complete extended edition when it came out, retiring my standard editions, which were still good, but just not enough compared to those extra three hours of magical scenes.

Yes, Lord of the Rings was the ultimate fantasy experience. It had magic, a Balrog, great armies, single battles, dwarven mines and Elfin forests. It had flashbacks to the past that filled in the story for those who didn’t know it. It added a love story to the mix. The only thing it didn’t have was a dragon, and we have that coming in the Hobbit, Jackson’s future release. I think the money I spent on the extended additions is a good investment. I will probably watch it at least once a year for the rest of my life, and enjoy it every time.

Demons are the ultimate evil creature, just below Gods in most mythologies and literary traditions, considered Gods in others. In most tales they are from another plane of reality, Hell, Hades, Chaos, you name it. They are normally very hard to kill, and in many cases killing a Demon only rids the world of its physical body. The spirit goes back to its home, to manifest again in physical form, and, like cocking a gun, preparing itself for a return. Demons shouldn’t be confused with Daemons, which in Greek mythology were spirits of nature, neither good nor bad, but holy hell on whoever pissed them off.
The first Demons I was truly familiar with were those of Robert E Howard in his Conan and Kull tales. Demons were summoned by wizards, who were invariably evil, and were almost always priests. They ranged from pig face creatures dispatched with fair ease by strong thewed barbarians with broadswords, to dark Gods like Set. They were always described as coming from the Pit, which brought up images of a dark and slimy place where horrendous creatures crawled over each other, waiting for the chance to get out and tear out a throat or two. Or they were described as coming from the Outer Dark, from the cold of interstellar space. Whatever place they came from, it wasn’t from around these here parts. Most were summoned to an altar, or a prepared area, though Thoth Amon had a ring that allowed him to summon the next Demon in the queue to wherever he happened to be.
Demons from the Bible were fallen angels, and their home was hell. They were not capable of being destroyed, the best that could be hoped for was a exorcism and the casting out of whoever they happened to inhabit at the moment. Fallen angel movies seem to be popular at this time, and Satan is the ultimate fallen angel. In Dungeons and Dragons Demons come from a variety of places, and each place is a realm of its own. Humans can sometimes visit those realms, for treasure, magical devices or some such. Getting trapped there is a really bad idea, because you are suddenly the target of every demon in the place, all wanting to get some measure of torment from the unlucky mortal who was left behind.
Whatever their form demons are bad business. They promise the world and then try to find a way to screw the deal. Stories of people trying to deal with Satan proliferate modern fantasy and horror, and have one primary moral. Don’t do it. You will not get a good deal from Satan, or any other demon of fact or fiction for that matter. This is doubly true with those Demons of fantasy. Cheating is the name of the game, and the Demon is always waiting for the summoner to make a mistake or to lower their guard.
I use Demons in my Refuge series. Both the common summoned creature from the nether worlds that can be set onto the goodly enemy, or just the person who happens to piss the summoner off. And the angel or fallen angel that is close to the God it is aligned with. In Doppelganger I introduced another purpose for Demons. They are summoned and lodged in the bodies of normal humanoids to make their way through security. At the proper moment they burst free of their human bonds, to the great detriment of their host, and march forth to cause confusion and destruction. These are terrorist demons, and they can cause a lot of damage before they are finally brought down. But just like the suicidal tools of modern terrorist organizations they are expendable. After all, where there is one Demon there are sure to be others.

Men fought and died in the subway station underneath the great building. Guardsmen and police fought in close quarters with swords and maces. Steam pistols phutted their songs of death, then were dropped as no time was given for the laborious process of reloading. The Imperial forces were beginning to gain to upper hand, given their superior armor, weapons, training and numbers, as well as their desperation to get through this screening force and get to the side of the Empress who had been ripped from them.

At first all ignored the lone elf that stumbled from a side tunnel and into the fray. He visibly trembled with some internal struggle. His eyes were fixed ahead. Those who were his friends knew who he was and what he was about. Those who were his enemies thought him an innocent bystander. Until he blew apart in a spray of blood and flesh, and the demon he had been carrying burst forth into the world.

“Look out,” yelled a soldier who made to shy away from the great horned form while trying to use his sword for a block of the huge taloned hand that flew toward him. Unsuccessful in both respects, the soldier died on his feet, head ripped from his body.
Newly arrived soldiers and Imperial Secret Service Agents came down the stairs in time to see the first killing. Pellets from steam rifles plowed into the huge red body of the demon, rocking it with their multiple impacts. A bolt of fire struck it in the chest, absorbed into its body like water into a sponge. Secret Service warpriests threw spells as well, to no avail.
The demon wreaked a terrible slaughter on soldiers and cops, leaving a trail of bodies as it took their life force and added to its power. Brave men broke and ran, to be caught from behind and torn asunder. Those very courageous strode in to strike the creature with their weapons, causing visible damage that didn’t seem to bother the monster in the least.

“Make way for the SWAAM Team” yelled an authoritative voice as a handful of armored figures came down the stairs, followed by priests and mages in fancy robes. Special Weapons, Armor and Magic, the elite of the Imperial City Police, this kind of creature fell into their purview.

A warrior in glowing armor ran forward, his two-handed sword swinging toward the creature. The demon raised an arm to block the blow, then roared in agony as the blade sliced through its flesh and bone, the scaly forearm falling to the floor. Bolts of power struck the head and chest of the monster, vaporizing large swathes of flesh and muscle. And then the demon was down, breath rattling hollowly through its dying lungs. It shuddered and lay still, before quickly dissolving into the floor of the subway chamber, leaving behind only its awful residue to show that it had ever existed, and the bodies of its victims.

Zombies seem to be the big thing in Hollywood right now. Even bigger than the much more powerful undead vampires, and so much more popular than mummies that it isn’t even funny. Mostly portrayed as shuffling hordes in various stages of rot, they overwhelm by weight of numbers. Most can be taken out by a head shot that destroys the brain, though in the Return of the Living Dead series even this will not stop them. Zombies used to be portrayed as the result of some supernatural power, raised from the dead by a priest or witch doctor and set on their enemies. Now they are mostly portrayed as the result of a virus or some scientific experiment gone bad. I will get into the fallacies of this chain of reasoning in a moment, and tell why I prefer the supernatural explanation.
I personally divide zombies into two categories: the Walking Zombie and the Running Zombie. Walking zombies are more akin to the traditional zombie we all know and love. They walked slowly, or if physically messed up, shuffle or even crawl about. They are easy to avoid as long as you don’t let yourself be bottled up in an area that is difficult to escape. As easy as this sounds, the movie heroes always seem to let this happen. Walking zombies can be easily avoided by walking away from them. Remember the lessons you learned in childhood around the swimming pool. Walk, don’t run, or you might fall down. And if you fall down the walking zombie that was two hundred yards behind you will suddenly tower over you, like they teleported. If you stay out in the open and walk you probably don’t have too much trouble staying away from these disgusting creatures. The only real problem is you have to sleep sometime, while the undead don’t have to. Running zombies, like those in 28 Days Later, are a different proposition entirely. As the name implies, they run, sometimes better and faster than they could while alive. Unless you are also a good runner then trying to get away is not an option. And running also carried with it the risk of falling, and the running zombie teleporting to your location before you can stumble back to your feet. No, the only option with the running zombie is to fortify in some strong position or to fight them. Unfortunately zombies seem to find their way into the strongest of places, somewhat like rats, so eventually they will get in, and you will have to fight them. Good luck.
So, supernatural or scientific explanations? I prefer the supernatural myself, just as for vampires. It is a better explanation as far as I’m concerned, an animating power not of this world that can make dead people, even in skeletal state, move and kill. Of course as it’s supernatural then there is no real need to feed on the living, unless the animating force is just assholish, which it probably is since its making dead people rise. The virus explanation just doesn’t seem to ring true. First off, how can a virus make rotting muscles and joints work, much less work well. The body is deteriorating, and that includes the nervous system. There should be no signals being sent from a rotting brain to rotting muscles through a rotting nervous system. Second is how they are powered. Yeah, I know, they eat people. But they are dead, and that means no metabolism. Their stomachs don’t digest food into sugars, sugars are not used to generate ATP, and there is no breaking of ATP to power muscles. They’re like a dead car that has no motive power. That’s why to me the supernatural approach is the better. They’re still creatures of the imagination, but in a more sensible manner. I use zombies in some of my fantasy novels, which of course always involves some kind of supernatural animating power. I will not use them in science fiction, as there is no scientific or physical explanation for them. I still enjoy watching the old movies and new shows like the Walking Dead, because I can suspend disbelief and enjoy the action. Can’t do that while writing, so I don’t even try.

Today is the third day of my promotion of Refuge: The Arrival: Book 1. So far I am getting the same results I got from my promotion of The Shadows of the Multiverse, Friday and Saturday are kind of slow days, and I gave away about four hundred books as of Sunday Morning. With Shadows I noted that Monday and Tuesday were actually the big give away days. I am thinking that people are doing other things on the weekend, and then checking their computers again the evenings of their work weeks. If the pattern holds true I will adjust my days slightly, starting on Saturday and going through Wednesday to give the book three weekdays after a weekend promotion.
Also received my first one star review, this for the first book of my Exodus series, Exodus: Empires at War: Book 1. Now I don’t really like one star reviews, as I learned when I looked at this one. There was really very little information in the write up, sort of like the reviewer just wanted to give the one star and wrote something so it would be accepted. The two major complaints were that there were too many inside references to other science fiction (and I think there were four or five in the whole hundred thousand word book) and that I didn’t seem to have a real grasp of how military discipline worked. I actually have a very good grasp, across multiple time periods. Now the real problem I had with this review was that it received one star for the reasons stated. To me a one star means there was absolutely no merit to the book. That it was so poorly written that it was barely understandable, with so many mistakes and typos that the storyline was impossible to follow, if there even was a storyline. Not because you didn’t like a character or characters, or you didn’t agree with the premise or the politics. The reasons he gave for not liking the book would rate a three star at worst. Again, it seemed that the reviewer wanted to derail a book which has sold 569 copies in less than four weeks. I will move on from that review and take nothing from it, since nothing was offered that helps me to become a better writer.Refuge: The Arrival: Book 1 will continue to be free through Tuesday, 10/20/2012, then will be back on sale for $2.99. Book 2 is also on sale for the same price, and if you like the story and want to continue it you can go to Amazon and buy the second book. If you like lots of action and don’t mind a whole bunch of characters to follow then this it the book for you. If not, then maybe it isn’t. But don’t leave a one star review just because you can’t stand one of the characters. Remember, one stars are for people who can’t speak or write in the language they are trying to use in their book. And now for an excerpt: two sectons involving the German Army fighting something they never expected.

“What in the hell is that,” yelled the Private, swinging his rifle down from firing position as another of the Orc’s fell to the ground with a burst skull.
Sergeant Tomas Mier turned at the exclamation, his own last victim falling dead to the ground. He was not sure what he saw striding from under the trees. Only that it was very large and very ugly. And that it held an enormous mace in one hand and a great round shield in the other. The next thing he noticed were the three other creatures moving with it, each as big and ugly as the first. All were wearing metal armor, open faced helmets, breast and back plates, shoulder guards and forearm guards, chain skirting below their waists, and metal shod boots. The armor boasted a ridge of plates down the back, and spikes from the helmet and shoulders. The handle of another mace thrust above the left shoulder of each of the monsters.
The lead monster tilted his head back and roared to the heavens, a sound like a dozen lions coming from his lungs. Mier felt his legs turn to jelly at the sound, and all he wanted to do was drop his rifle and run away. But he was a German soldier, the men looked up to him, and he would be damned if he would let them down. So he looked on when the creature pointed his mace toward the nearest armored vehicle and yelled something incomprehensible. The monster moved toward the vehicle in a shuffling gait that covered a surprising distance, his fellows at his side.
“Fire,” yelled Sergeant Mier, bringing his auto-rifle to his shoulder and sending a burst of 6mm rounds into the nearest creature. The rest of the stunned Germans obeyed the order, their training and instincts taking over for their frightened minds. Scores of tracers, indicating hundreds of rounds, flew into the creatures. And bounced off into the air as they hit the thick armor on the monsters.
Mier adjusted fire, aiming into the uncovered knee of the creature where wrinkled yellow skin showed. He gasped as he watched his tracers bounce from the skin as from the armor, and the creature turned its attention toward him, something he had neither wanted nor expected.
One of the monsters got within range of a German soldier who was trying to bring the creature down with his rifle. The mace came in quickly and the soldier’s head disappeared into a mist of blood and gore, and the body was flung to the side by the momentum of the strike. The monster brought the mace back the other way and hit another soldier in the lower chest. Body armor crumpled and the soldier was flung away like a boneless doll, to land near the trees a hundred meters away.
“They’re fucking Trolls,” yelled one of the troops, backing away from the creatures, then turning to run. The Sergeant backed up himself, reaching for another magazine and wondering why, since the bullets didn’t seem to be doing much good. A dozen soldiers were down, and to be down to these creatures meant you were dead. He pushed the magazine in and looked up to see one of the creatures towering over him, raising the huge mace into the air. It has to be three meters tall, thought the Sergeant in what he was sure was his last thought. Taller. He raised the barrel of his rifle and fired from the hip toward the head, blazing through the entire magazine in less than two seconds. As the weapon clicked on empty the NCO tensed, waiting for the impact of the mace that he knew would destroy his body.
A ripple of small explosions spackled across the head and shoulders of the creature. The Troll rocked back as small spurts of blackish blood flew into the air. Mier jumped back as he recognized the sounds of a thirty-five millimeter cannon ripping into the monster. He was splashed with foul smelling black blood as he moved away, reloading his rifle and looking for cover. The Troll fell back, then went to one knee as the armor piercing rounds tore through its body. With a plaintive grunt the creature fell forward into the dirt and lay still.
Sergeant Mier dropped behind the body of the Troll into a kneeling position and brought Orcs, creatures he knew he could kill, under fire. The auto cannon on the APC continued to hammer away, then went silent. Mier turned his head and felt the next shock of the day. One of the Trolls had jumped onto the APC and was hitting the turret with his mace, rocking the movable capsule back and forth. With a two handed swipe the Troll smacked the mace into the turret and tore it from its mount, breaking the haft of the mace at the same time. The turret tilted over to the left and it was obvious to the Sergeant that the weapon in it was out of action. And the other two Trolls were still moving among the Germans, swinging their heavy maces and killing men with every swipe.

Sergeant Mier couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The American officer was battling the two Trolls, keeping them occupied. She was moving with unbelievable speed and coordination, making the huge creatures seem even clumsier than they were. They were missing her with every strike, while she moved like the hero in some Oriental martial arts flick. Then she hit the one Troll with a kick and injured herself. The injury couldn’t have been too bad, because within moments she was back to moving like a superhero.
Mier felt the shock of the arrow piercing the young black woman as if it had hit him. She staggered from the obviously mortal blow. One of the Trolls then lifted her from the ground with a swing like a golf stroke, sending her flying through the air fifty meters to land hard on her back.
Mier looked around for a moment, spotting the Elf who had fired the arrow. The man was drawing back another long shaft and sighting in on something. Mier brought his rifle up to his shoulder, developed a good sight picture, and send a short burst at the Elf. One round impacted the bow and knocked it out of alignment just as the Elf was releasing the arrow. The other two rounds hit in throat and lower face, killing the Elf instantly. Mier sprayed bursts at the other Elves moving past the bowman, scoring a couple of hits and making the others drop to the ground. He then turned his attention back to the woman and the Trolls.
The Trolls were walking toward her with their ponderous gait, waving their maces and roaring their anger and hate, while she lay unmoving on her back. Mier dropped the magazine from his rifle and slapped another in as he ran toward the Trolls. As soon as he snapped the mag into place and released the bolt forward he stopped, brought the rifle up, and sprayed the magazine at the monsters. Sparks flew where the 6mm rounds hit the heavy armor. The Trolls screamed and one turned to the others to grunt out something in their language. One Troll turned back and continued on to the woman, while the other strode toward the Sergeant with blood in its eyes.
Mier slapped another mag in the rifle and aimed carefully, sighting in on the face of the creature, determined to do some damage before the monster took him out. The Sergeant felt the rifle recoil gently into his shoulder as he fired on sustained full automatic, striking most of the rounds into the face. The creature roared as it brought its hand up over its face. Some blackish blood spurted into the air and the creature roared again. The monster pulled its arm down and shuffled toward the Sergeant, the orbits where its eyes had been now blood filled holes.
Mier ran to the side of the now blind creature and looked over at the woman. She was unmoving on the ground, and the other Troll was standing over her, mace gripped in both hands and raised overhead. Mier fired off his remaining three rounds, striking the creature on the back. It hesitated for a second, then brought the mace down. The Sergeant opened his mouth to scream, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop the monster. That was when the second superhero struck.

Refuge: The Arrival: Book 1 is free today (11/16/2012) through Tuesday (11/20/2012) on Amazon KDP Select. I have big plans for this series, at least twelve books in the main storyline and possibly 4-6 spin offs. That should take up a significant amount of my writing time for the next decade. I say significant because I will also have other projects in the works during that time, including the Exodus science fiction series and the Deep Dark Well set of trilogies. I think I can get them all done, especially if I can get to the point where I either quit my day job or at least go to part time status. I also have a book on Amazon and Smashwords called Refuge: Doppelganger, set over a thousand years in the future, which may have some spoilers to people starting the Refuge series, or may not, depending on how you look at it. I myself don’t think it spoils too much of the storyline about the past.
Refuge grew out of the idea about humans inhabiting a world of fantasy would that had connections to our history and culture. So there would be elves, dragons, demons, vampires and magic, but there would also be Baseball, Soccer, and modern orders of battle, as well as classical and rock music, and the Catholic Church and others. I was hoping it would be a blend that exposed readers to a new world while maintaining some of the familiarity of the old. And I wanted it to have lots of action. It is military fantasy, no doubt about that. Most of the stories will feature armies maneuvering across the map in a series of thrusts and counterthrusts. And the timeline will advance, with new characters, but then again many of the initial characters, being long lived elves or human immortals, will be in the entire series.
I would have to say that Refuge in style is a mix of Harry Turtledove meets R. A. Salvatore. Turtledove in that the book covers a large geographical area with a lot of characters to provide viewpoints of the story from both sides. I have gotten in one review of my science fiction series Exodus that said there were too many characters and it became confusing. That might be so, but this is the style of book that needs a lot of characters, and if you like Turtledove you will probably like this book. If not, it may not be the book for you. I try to do the battle scenes in a Salvatore style in which there is a lot of action and viewpoint scenes switch fast a furious. A review of another book of mine, The Shadows of the Multiverse, said that I had too much action and not enough character development. I’m not really sure how you can have too much action, but I try to write the books I would want to read, and twenty page scenes of people sitting around coffee tables sipping beverages and raising eyebrows while discussing things that have already happened do not really get me going. So it has action with character development within the context of that action. Yes, the book is an introduction to the series, but still a good yarn in its own right. Books one and two go together to make the introduction to the story. It just seemed silly to offer a two hundred thousand word novel in one ebook, so it is two. And this book’s last chapter is also an action sequence, and unlike any other I have found in fantasy, though I haven’t read everything out there. That would be a fantasy, would it not? This chapter involves a battle between an Armored Cavalry Company and a Great Wyrm Red Dragon. Now what could be cooler than that? This excerpt is not from that battle, but from an earlier fight between the Immortal Humans and some Trolls. Enjoy, and please drop by Refuge: The Arrival: Book 1 from 11/16/2012 to 11/20/2012 to pick up your free copy of the ebook.

Excerpt:

The old German pulled up as soon as he caught sight of what was down that road. Levine skidded to a halt beside him and swore in Hebrew. Kurt could understand the feeling, because he really couldn’t believe the three creatures he was watching.
From the scale of the people and vehicles around them they had to stand over three meters tall, maybe just a bit less than four meters. And if they didn’t weigh at least a ton he was a Russian. There were a couple of burning vehicles, including a truck and a couple of cars that looked like they had been flipped over, proving the strength of the creatures. One of the monsters was chasing some German soldiers at the far observable end of the road. Another was stumbling around with its hands over its face, black blood shining on its throat and upper chest. And a third was rearing up with a mace, about to bring it down on a body lying on the ground. Germans were firing at all three of the monsters, and the bullets were bouncing off, even where they hit exposed flesh.
Kurt looked at the closest monster, the one about to smash someone helpless on the ground. A German soldier fired at the monster, tracers bouncing from the helmet and body plate of the creature. The monster hesitated for an instant, turning his head to look at the German, then turned back toward his victim.
Kurt exploded into a sprint toward the Troll, for such he was already calling it in his head. His legs pumped smoothly as he ran as fast as the fastest Olympic sprinter, though more burdened than the athlete, hauling his armor and weapon along with him. The Troll was bringing his mace down, and Kurt could see the body of a dark skinned woman in military fatigues lying on the ground, about to receive the blow.
The two handed sword came in at the closest arm of the creature as the mace passed its waist. Kurt put all of his strength into the blow, and the laser sharpened blade hit at the elbow, directly above the forearm guard. The blade sliced through the rock hard skin with a solid chunking sound. Black blood spurted into the air. The Troll roared and spun toward the German, the mace missing the target as the damaged arm’s hand lost its grip on the weapon.
Kurt’s arms shook as the blade stopped on hitting the granite like bones of the creature. He pulled the blade free and backed up as the monster turned its attention to him. Kurt brought his sword up to a guard position as the monster advanced, swinging the mace in its off hand.
The mace swung out as the monster went into the attack. It swung the mace in and the German grabbed the hand grip on his blade and went for a two handed block, catching the haft of the blunt weapon on the blade between the grips. Kurt tensed as the weapons met, locking his arms in place. Despite his demigod like strength the monster out massed him by a factor of eight or more, and the German was pushed backwards by the hit, his booted feet sliding on the turf.
The monster clumsily brought his mace back for another strike, and the German moved in, dropping his left hand back to the handle of his sword and shoving the point forward like a spear. The blade punctured the skin of the Troll in the middle of the right thigh, slicing deep into the muscle. The Troll shambled back, pulling itself off of the blade while it roared its pain and anger. Kurt drew the blade over his left shoulder and sliced across the opposite thigh of the monster while stepping forward, cutting through the large muscle and wounding the creature deeply. The monster lost control of the left leg and staggered to a kneeling position, putting a hand down to keep from falling over.
Kurt sliced in with his blade on the supporting arm, the one that was holding the mace, the left. The blade sliced in again, chopping down to the bone. The mace fell from lifeless fingers as the creature roared and tried to regain its feet. A slice at the right knee hurt that leg even more, and Kurt backed away, looking for the killing stroke.
He knew his blade wouldn’t cut through the thick, steel hard bones, so there was no way he was going to cut through a limb or sever the head. But he might still bleed the creature out with enough deep wounds, or cut off its air supply by cutting its throat. As he thought about his strategy he continued to monitor the creature. He was very surprised when it reached over with the hand he had crippled with his first stroke and picked up its mace. He looked closely at the arm while the monster pushed the mace his way, trying to keep him back. He saw that where the cut had been was now a thick scar. A scar that was diminishing and fading as he watched. Looking at the legs he saw that those wounds had also closed or were closing. Then the creature lurched to his feet and steadied himself.
Damned thing regenerates, he thought, wondering again how he would kill it. The ground rumbled underneath his feet at that moment and a shadow passed over his vision. Startled, the German looked up to his right in time to see a mace descending. He quickly brought his sword up to block the weapon, diverting most of the impact along the blade. One of the Troll’s fingers was caught up by the blade and fell to the ground. The finger continued to wriggle along the ground as if a sentient creature, while the Troll, missing a finger, flung his arm up high with the mace and swung it down once again. Kurt dodged away, coming within reach of the first Troll, who staggered forward and swiped at him with its mace. Now he was in a fight with two difficult to kill behemoths. And all he could consider at the moment was keeping life in his own body.
I know that bastard was blind, he thought, looking at the second Troll that still had blood dripping from his face, but with two perfectly good angry red orbs glaring from it. So they regenerate eyes too. Then the creature swung at him again and he was forced to dodge.
As he was dodging, striking back when he could and leaving what always would be superficial wounds on these creatures, he heard another roar. He glanced to his right, up the road, and saw the third creature coming at a shuffling run toward him. And to his horror he saw the fourth, which had appeared to be dead, raise its head and look around for a second, then push itself up and come his way.
“Ishmael,” he called out, looking for his friend, while backpedaling quickly. At that moment his legs hit something and he fell over onto his back, rolling on the ground with the woman he had thought was dead, who was groaning and pulling the arrow from her own body.
* * *
Levine finished off another of the Elves, pulling his blade across the throat of the man and half severing his head. The Elves were worthy opponents, he had to admit. They outclassed him in grace and agility. But he was faster, quicker and much stronger than they were. And he was the complete dirty fighter, with tricks they had never seen. Add to that their magic appeared to have no effect on him, and he was their worst nightmare moving through their last waking moments.
Another Elf gestured at him, murmuring some words under his breath. Levine felt the energy wash over him, and a nearby German soldier fell to his knees, his eyes unfocused for a moment. The Elf frowned, then eyes widened in alarm as the immortal headed for him at a run, putting his sword through the man’s ribs and leaving him coughing out his life on the ground.
Damned sleep spell, thought the immortal, shaking his head, catching a glimpse of the German soldier staggering back to his feet. Many of the Elves seemed to have that spell, and they had knocked out more of the soldiers than they had killed in combat. Of course that was as good a way of putting them out of action, as they were almost impossible to awaken. And the enemy was willing, almost eager, to take prisoners. Levine was not sure why, but was sure it was not because of any altruistic feelings on the part of the Elves. At least when I kill the attacker their magic seems to fade with them, he thought, picking out another target, a small group of Orcs, and heading for them.
“Ishmael,” yelled a loud voice from some distance.
Levine turned, his eyes immediately focusing on a large man in armor, about a hundred meters away, who was battling against a trio of very large opponents. As he watched the human stumbled backwards and fell over, a large mace missing him as he toppled.
“You,” yelled Levine to a soldier who was reloading his rifle, his eyes searching for targets. “Do you have any flamethrowers with your unit?”
“I don’t think so,” said the Sergeant, looking confused for a moment, then glancing over at the Trolls. Recognition of the problem registered on his face and he nodded. “I’ll see what I can find.”
Levine waved a hand and ran toward his friend, reveling in the speed of his rush. I could have shown up Hitler in that damned Olympics of his, thought the Jew as he ran lightly over the ground. He would have loved to have his resident supermen outdone by a member of an inferior race. But I guess it was enough that the black man humbled him.
Levine knew that he was not like other men, besides his long life and seemingly eternal youth. He was faster, quicker and stronger than other men. His abilities had increased as he got older. But they had also increased when he had arrived on this new world, as if something here resonated with his abilities. He knew that Kurt had felt it as well, though the other immortal was much younger, just into the beginning of his second century. He could also feel the heat building up in his body. The damnable heat that caused nerve damage and loss of memory.
Then the time for thought was past, as the back of a Troll loomed up before him and he went in for the strike.
* * *
One of the Trolls stepped forward, brought his legs apart in a wide stance, and swung his mace down at the big German. Kurt brought his two handed sword up, one hand on the grip in the middle of the blade, and locked his arms. The head of the mace hit the blade with the clang of metal, and Kurt felt his arms pushed down by the massive strength of the creature. Gritting his teeth, feeling the weight of the monster behind the weapon that threatened to push him down into the ground, the German pushed back with all of his might. Pushed back, and felt his arms straighten as he pushed the mace up and the Troll backwards. The creature stared down at him in disbelief, clearly surprised that such a small being had such strength.
Kurt shoved hard, unbalancing the Troll, then pulled the sword back down and rolled to the side, just as another of the monsters swung his mace to connect with the ground where Kurt’s head had been. The mace dug into the ground and Kurt rolled up to his feet, sword coming to the guard position. He swung a hard strike into the leg of the Troll who was still trying to gain his balance, cutting into the flesh and dropping the creature into a kneel. He dodged back as the second Troll swung a waist high strike at him, then did a roll over the sweep, landing on his feet and bringing his blade around to knock the mace of the third Troll out wide before it could come down on the helpless woman who was trying to sit up, the bloody shaft of an arrow in her hands.
The farthest Troll, the one he had leapt over, came back in with its mace raised overhead, trying to come down with the weapon on Kurt’s head and smash the human into the dirt. The monster roared as blood spurted from its neck, then its left arm. The creature turned into the flurry of a sword as Levine came into the fight.
“Get her back up,” said Levine, pointing with his chin at the woman. “I’ll keep them busy for a moment.”
Kurt nodded as the Jew went into a frenzy of movement, shield seemingly everywhere at once as his sword danced around the three Trolls, drawing blood with every dart. He reached down and grabbed the woman by the shoulder of her jacket and pulled her back, dragging her along the ground, backing clear of the fight.
“You wait here,” he said to the woman as he gently lowered her shoulder. He could see that the front of her jacket was covered in blood, but the eyes that looked back into his were free of pain and seemed most clear. She nodded and he looked back to the fray, where his friend was keeping the Trolls busy with his swordsmanship, moving like a ghost among them. He swung his own sword once and yelled out a battle cry, moving in as he saw a fourth Troll coming in a shambling trot to join the battle.

When I was growing up there were a large number of science fiction movies appearing at the theater. Most involved cigar shaped space
ships with flames curving out of the ends (a product of filming the things in an Earth gravity field and atmosphere). There were bug eyed aliens, and men in flight suits and jet pilot helmets fighting them with .45 caliber pistols in hand. Or the men fell in with the hot women from Venus, or some other hokey plot. The actors were the B-list marvels who we saw in the same kind of movie last year and the year before. Some were decent actors. Most weren’t. They were still exciting to a young mind, who imagined blasting off with the spacemen and patrolling the lanes of the Solar System. And then there was the first of the truly modern science fiction movies, Forbidden Planet.
Forbidden Planet was a different sort of beast. Made a year before I walked this planet (or should I say the year before I lay in a crib screaming for food and crapping my diapers) Forbidden Planet had a cool looking flying saucer (that was stolen by Twilight Zone and many others later on), a great robot (also stolen for Twilight Zone and many others), an alien civilization that made you think, disintegrator beams, and really out of this world electronic music. Of course, since it was done at the beginning of the atomic age everything was atomic, with Neutron Beam disintegrators, in a time when the risks of nuclear power were not as clear. It had big name stars like Ann Francis and Walter Pidgeon, and Leslie Neilsen when he still considered becoming a serious actor. The setting was a planet around another star system. The special effects were wonderful for the time, even better than what Star Trek boasted ten years later, though to give Trek credit, they were a TV Show and as such low budget. I kept trying to catch Forbidden Planet on TV when I was small, but my parents kept taking me to other events when it was showing, so I never really saw the whole movie until I was twelve. When I did I was amazed. And science fiction movies as a whole got better.
Oh, not immediately. There were still low budget flicks with bug eyed monsters or civilizations of gorgeous women and no men, and rocket ships that would take forever just to get to Mars, but could get to the imaginary inhabitable worlds swarming our Solar System in days. But the seeds were planted by Disney, and we started getting some better movies in the 60s, even more in the 70s, and now we have a bunch of really high quality space movies coming out each year. Forbidden Planet opened up the possibility of movies about travel to other stars, a mainstay of written science fiction at the time, but not explored on the big screen. It opened up robots that weren’t just clunking pieces of stove pipe. And it opened up alien civilizations that weren’t just cruising the Galaxy looking for easy marks to conquer, and that didn’t look like us with silver skin. I think Forbidden Planet was a risk at the time. But it was a risk that paid off. I have watched the movie several times lately. Friends have remarked that it seems dated. To me it still looks wonderful. No, it’s not Star Wars or Trek, but keeping in context the time it was a very well done movie, a true classic that set the stage for Star Trek and Wars. And now I discover a Facebook Page called Forbidden Planet, that is not just a celebration of the movie, but of all science fiction. So hooray for Forbidden Planet, and may the Krell always dwell in our hearts and our imaginations.

I know. I stole that line from an old Monty Python Movie, but I think it is true for some of the books I write. I loved Python. They were wacky and irreverent and took on some of the more nutty aspects of our world. But you could also tell that they knew their history, and were great imaginative minds at work. I also believe that I know my history, and my science, and my mythology. I may not be an expert on any of these subjects, though I come close on military history. But I also know I have a greater knowledge base than most, and I try to use that in my work. I still make mistakes, probably a lot of them, and I steal and rework ideas without shame or regret. I don’t copy them verbatim. I take them, combine them, and come out with something completely my own, just like a musician does with notes and musical themes.
In the World of Refuge I tried to come up with something completely different. I wanted to write in a High Fantasy World in which our own history and culture existed and had a major influence on the world. This includes art, architecture, science, religion and of course military history. I did not want to write an urban fantasy, in which Elf detectives track the Vampire murderers of the Great Mage in a fantasy New York City (though come to think of it, that might be cool). I wanted a world of Dwarves, Elves, Orcs, Dragons and Trolls, where there was interaction between them and Humans who remembered the history of Rome and the Battle of Stalingrad. So I came up with Refuge, the tale of humanity in the millions transported to another dimension where all of our fantasies, archetypes and mythologies were real, to a certain degree. The first story I wrote was set thousands of years after the entry event, and think that I might have lost some of the people I sent my manuscript too. Refuge: Doppelganger is also set in the far future, though I tried to write a tale that focused on some of the central characters, unlike that first book I wrote. Then I determined to write about the coming of humans to Refuge (at least modern Earth humans, as there were some there before), starting as most stories should start, at the beginning.
I thought of how these humans, without the use of magic, unskilled at muscle powered warfare, would fare on dropping into a world where most everyone could use magic, and the mighty magic users would be truly formidable. And I thought they would not do so well. But, as my favorite ESPN personality says, Not So Fast. Because I also thought about what would happen if those same humans brought some of their own toys with them. I thought that a Leopard 2 or Abrams tank would be pretty impressive. And would magically enhanced armor actually stop a 35mm cannon round, and if so, would it stop a 120mm high velocity tank round? Probably not. In the original book (The Quest, The Sword and The Cross) I had thought that magic would really depend on belief, much as Voodoo does in this world. A magic user would have to believe they could tap the energies needed to power their spell, then believe that the incantation would do what they wanted it to do. And people who believed in forces beyond magic (like a God of the Universe) would be immune to the powers of those who practiced magic. So, thought I, what would happen if several millions humans came through the dimensional barrier with weapons they believed would work, and belief in a God that would protect them from evil (in the case of some humans). Tanks, artillery and nuclear weapons would give them an advantage, but one that would only last so long. Eventually they would run out of fuel and ammo, and the beliefs of a several hundred million natives would eventually overpower the beliefs of the humans, and things would stop working.
So this is the gist of the story of the first two books of the Refuge series, humans transported to a world of magic who must use their advanced weapons to carve out a refuge for themselves. The next two books will deal with what the humans do when the tech stops working. I have noticed that in most fantasy worlds fighting is little more than a bunch of people meleeing around the field in individuals duels. I think this is due to the effects of magic on people gathered in formation. Conan by Howard was somewhat different, but then again magic is different in the Hyborian world, being mostly the summoning of Demons, who would probably not be too grateful to be released at a pike line while archers plugged them with hundreds of arrows. But humanity has a way of figuring out how to make things work, and disciplined armies of the muscle powered era almost always overwhelmed melee fighters. And hence the name of the next two books, The Legions. Refuge: The Arrival: Book 1 will be free on Amazon Kindle from 11/16/2012 to 11/20/2012. Book 2 is also available now, and books 3 & 4 should be available in the late Spring of 2013.
And now for an excerpt: This is about a young American woman who does know she is immortal discovering her abilities in a battle with creatures of mythology.

Jackie skidded to a halt on the grass as she came around a turn and saw what lay ahead. She had not imagined that the enemy would have anything like the three creatures she saw killing Germans with the huge maces in their hands. An APC lay tilted over on the side of the road, the turret on top dislodged from its mount. And the Lieutenant didn’t hesitate, fear totally removed from her adrenaline charged system. She ran forward at a sprint, yelling at the top of her lungs and firing her rifle at the nearest creature.
The Troll swiveled in mid step towards the soldier, bringing its shield up to bat the bullets from the American’s rifle away. She ran toward it, firing low now, watching as her bullets bounced off its skin and wondering for a moment what the hell she was doing. Then she was in range of its mace and the creature swept the weapon down to crush her.
Jackie dodged away from the blow and the monster brought the blunt weapon down onto the ground. It pulled the mace back and attempted a backhand swing at the woman. Jackie ducked under the blow. It brought the mace back again on a downswing, this time missing the leaping woman.
Another roar brought a shiver down the young woman’s spine, breaking through the warrior’s trance she had been a captive of, and she realized that another of the monsters was on her, coming in from behind. She caught a glimpse over her shoulder and dove forward, tucking into a roll that brought her between the legs of the first Troll, and the second missed with its swing, almost hitting its fellow, who gave an accusatory roar in return.
I need a better weapon, thought Jackie, feeling the inadequacy of the rifle in her hands. She couldn’t really use an auto cannon, it being too big and bulky to carry. And all the ones in the area were already manned. A grenade launcher might do some damage, but she didn’t have one of those either.
Jackie’s thoughts were interrupted as she became aware that the Troll she had dodged through the legs of was rearing up over her. She quickly dodged from its downward swing, then ducked the swing of the other Troll, then leapt backwards ten meters from the beasts, her eyes searching for a weapon.
How in the hell did I jump so far, she thought as the leap registered on her mind. Then time for thinking was gone as both Trolls came at her again, moving so they would come in on opposite sides. Jackie moved into a graceful dance that was perfectly timed, making both of the Trolls miss with multiple swings. The creatures stopped for a moment as the human back flipped away, staring stupidly at each other as their tiny minds tried to come up with a strategy to take the annoying warrior out of the fight.
Jackie noticed that she was not even breathing hard. Her reflexes were much faster than she had ever remembered them being. She was dancing around the creatures like Spiderman, one of her favorite comic characters. And while she wasn’t doing the creatures any damage, she was keeping them occupied, away from harming any of her fellow soldiers.
I wonder how strong I am, she thought, moving fluidly to keep the Trolls off balance. With a thought she was moving in, bringing her leg in as she leapt through the air. Her right leg rocketed out and struck her target Troll in the face. She was ready to ride through the kick and land on the monster as it went over. Reality was very different. Her foot hit the monster in the face, the shock transferred up her leg, and she bounced off with a sickening crunch of broken bone in her ankle, while the creature staggered back about a half meter.
Jackie landed on her back, feeling the agonizing pain in her ankle as the ground jarred her. She ignored the pain to the best of her ability, and rolled away as the second Troll brought his mace down on where she had been. Rolling up onto her feet, she felt nausea almost take her down again as the pain shot up her leg from the ankle. She backed up as fast as she could, hopping on her good foot, keeping a wary eye on the two Trolls that came after her with snarling faces.
A mace came at her from head high, and Jackie ducked under the weapon, then jumped with her good leg into the air over the second mace that was coming in at her waist. She was surprised that she still cleared the second mace, and came down well balanced on her one leg. The first Troll came at her with a back swing and she back peddled away, forgetting her injured ankle and surprised that it held up so well. Jumping over another swing and twisting in the air, she landed on both feet and felt no pain.
I know the damned thing was broken, she thought as she ran around the Trolls on both feet. But now there was no pain and the ankle was functioning perfectly. And the Trolls were again roaring in frustration as they chased after her.
Lieutenant Smith felt the physical shock of the arrow before she felt the pain. The arrow sliced through the back of her body armor, through her lower left thoracic region, nicking the heart, and out through the front of her armor. She looked down at the red dripping head of the arrow before the intense pain hit her brain. She could feel blood in her throat and coughed, which caused more pain. The roar of the Troll came to her as from a distance.
Something slammed into her hip and she was flying through the air. The agony in her side was warring for space in her awareness with the agony in her abdomen. Light and shadow flashed by before she hit the ground, adding more pain to the mix. She lay on her back, trying to pull air into her lungs through the pain of broken ribs, feeling the tread of massive feet approaching and knowing that any moment she would be smashed to jelly under a massive mace. That was her last thought as blackness unfolded over her brain and the world faded away.